


Puppy Love

by Noid



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Blood, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hospitalization, M/M, Multi, Other, Self Harm, Suicide Attempt, Tried to stay in character at least a little bit, suicide warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2020-05-28 16:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19398487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noid/pseuds/Noid
Summary: [Self-Harm TW]





	1. Chapter 1

Day by day, you watched the calendar days become marked in red sharpie. Days became numbers, numbers became time and you knew you were beginning to have none left as you looked at the sparkling “PROM NIGHT” in glitter gel writing at the end of the month. Prom Night, a night that was deemed the most exciting times of a high schooler’s life, was only a few days away. You had been attempting to romance anyone at this point, trying to get their attention on you or to at least hold their hand for a night that might be drowned in booze, cocaine and whatever other thing that people brought in. 

You flinched, thinking about the cold and disapproving stares of any of the six that had watched you even open your mouth. Vera Oberlin, though you had spoken to her before, looked at you with disdain. You were dust under her show and always siding with her was Liam de Lioncourt. They had always sneered at your tactics, no matter how much it benefited them. It was only to benefit them.

Polly didn’t care much for you either, you knew. No- it was what you felt. She let you come with her to parties and you had fun, admittedly. But then she never remembered the time together. 

Scott was too busy being wolfish, Miranda obviously never batted an eyelash at you and Damien had no sympathy for your well-being.

You were alone. Trampled and alone. No one cared about your well-being.

So you stood here now, looking down at the green grass from the very top of the school. Only the railing kept you in the premises of safety but that wasn’t today. You knew where you wanted to go and how you were going to do it. That was okay, wasn’t it? No one needed you.

No one wanted you.

You hopped up onto the railing carefully with bare feet, your shoes tucked gently up against the wall of the library. There’s a breeze on the air and you take a moment to enjoy the only loving caress you think you’ve felt since coming to this high school. No one would know though. That’s all that mattered as you began to think as to what kind of funeral might be had. Or if they would even care enough to give you something to your heartbroken body.

You hear your name being spoken behind. You frown and your heart also stutters as you recognize the nice tenor that is Scott’s voice. The werewolf. You look over to him to see an expression on his hairy face that you haven’t seen before. His blue eyes are trembling with an emotion that you know well from your own reflection and it’s...puzzling. His shoulders are hunched over, as though he’s trying to be smaller than what he is and his tail, behind him, is curling up between his legs. 

“Uh… what… are you doing?” His words come out soft and you flinch. Why was he being so cute and nice to you now when it never mattered to begin with. Your wounded body rises up with anger and you spit words at him. “Leaving this school.”

He tries to smile a little but only the corner of his mouth twitches as he thinks. “Well, why don’t you use the front doors? They’re not that far, I can walk yo-” You cut him off bitterly. “I’m not going to _use_ the front doors, Scott. I’m not going to use them ever again.”

“So… are you going to climb to school everyday?”

You almost throw your hand over your face. Your bitter rage and hurt feelings momentarily dwindle into the feeling of “Oh for fuck’s sake.” You sigh instead, narrowing your eyes. You can feel how tired you are… “If I say “yes” will that get you to leave me alone?”

He approaches by stepping forward, shaking his head. “I don’t think it would be good to leave you.”

You’re bitter again. “Go away, Scott.”

“But…” There’s a kicked puppy expression on his face, his eyes flicking to the old flooring. “I don’t want to.”

“Why?” He flinches a little. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him do that. “I… I don’t know. I just don’t think I should.”

There’s a harsh sigh from your chest. Your tired body is beginning to relent. “Scott, go away.”

“NO!” His voice makes your heart stutter and leap. He tries again, his eyes shut tightly, as though he’s hiding from the creature under his bed. “No… I don’t want to.”

You have two options in your mind. One is clinging to the possible hope that Scott is trying to make sure you’re not going to jump. You think your chest is clinging onto that tiny little fact that he might care enough just to at least keep you from doing something you had countless days of thought on. The other option is to shrug it all off. Again, you had been planning this for a very long time. Just some words from one guy who really never even cared in the first place aren’t going to stop you from dropping.

The sun is setting and your face turns to address the inviting warmth that stains your clothes. Your name comes from Scott’s mouth but you’re too tired to look at him. You let your weight swing forward slowly, your decision decided. 

“Scott, can you pick up my shoes, please? I’ll come down.” You lie. You feel his personality and relief hitting your back as his shoes tap on the flooring of the balcony. With an exhale, your eyes close, weight distributing.

And you jump, ignoring his scream of despair behind you.

* * *

There’s a sound that bleeds through drowsiness. It’s mechanical, systematic and even cold. There’s nothing warm about it. There’s something that cuts through it and you can feel it in your left hand. It’s the only warmth you feel and you’re almost too tired to open your eyes. You knew you shouldn’t have been able to but maybe this is a part of death.

Very slowly, you force your eyes open. You feel drowsy, aching and like a crumpled piece of paper in the school trash bin. Fluorescent lights glare down at you and the somewhat pulled, sky-blue curtains show you that it’s night time. You can see the city lights in the distance, domed with a yellowed glow. Cars pass along, honking and swerving to avoid death and the like that you had oh-so wanted. 

A soft voice calls to you from your left. You muster up lots of strength to turn your head to the side on a bleached pillow. A tear-streaked, wet and familiar face looks at you. Pretty blue eyes are glowing with depression and relief all at once as Scott smiles broadly, showing off his canine teeth. You can hear his tail beginning to thump enthusiastically on the seat’s arm. His hand is in yours, large, calloused and… tender. His warmth is the only one in the room.

“You’re awake!” His voice booms and you flinch. He seems to realize this and returns to sinking in his seat but smiling widely. “You’re awake,” he whispers. “I’m so glad! I really thought you were done for.” His admittance makes you nearly raise an eyebrow. You really thought that those moments had been your last. Not only that but his words somewhat hurt.

Then again, he _is_ kind of an idiot.

His hand squeezes yours as you try to find your voice. You realize you’ve a breathing tube in your throat and you really start to wonder the damage. 

“I… I brought your shoes for you.” He reaches down beneath the gurney you’re in and pulls up your shoes, clean and- wow, they are surprisingly clean. “I cleaned them for you! I thought that when you got out of the hospital, you’d want to take a fresh step!” He set them down and you can hear the heart monitor start beeping a little fast. “And I know I’m not the best person but I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He scratches his beard with his claws, humming as he tries to think. “Uhh… it’s prom night, so no one else is here but…” He shifts a bit in his chair, scooting it over so you can see a shelf behind him. Every inch of it is covered in small to large cards. Every other card possesses tiny monster dolls and there’s even a “Get Well” balloon you somehow didn’t notice upon first waking up. He starts to point them out.

“That shiny one is from Vera, this really weird but cool one is from Liam and- oh, oh, the seaclam one is from Miranda! It’s a little bloody but there’s a pearl inside!” You decide to not ponder on if it was real or not. But you feel it all coming into your chest. You can’t muster sarcasm, your wittiness and aggression slowly dies and your eyes close. Scott stops what he’s doing immediately and you can see his shadow above you, blocking out the bright lights.

“H… Hey, are you okay?” A pause and his warm hand lets go. “You’re crying… I’m sorry, did I say something? Do I smell?” He starts smelling his breath. You shake your head a little, opening your eyes again to see this somewhat tired but nervous puppy dog of a man. For a moment, you don’t care that it’s prom night but you feel bad for Scott. Didn’t he have someone he wanted to go with?

You use a hand that feels like lead weight to point out towards the window, where the colorful lights of prom are surely flashing. Somehow, he understands what you mean. His smiles toothily. “Prom’s too loud for me. And I wanted to stay with you since… I didn’t want you to miss it alone.” The waterworks are coming even harder and you can’t stop it. It’s freeflowing with your feelings of frustration, previous despair, jealousy, bitterness… loneliness. 

You sniff and a plaid sleeve comes up to your face. He scrubs a little hard but you figure it’s the thought that counts. He speaks again, his tone a little bit more bold.

“Hey! Do you wanna dance later? Have our own prom?”

Your wet eyes widen and your heavy hand points at you in disbelief. The heart monitor starts to beep more frantically and he looks at it nervously. “S-Sorry! Did I say something?”

Your fragile fingers wrap around Scott’s hand, searching for that warmth again. “Oh!” He seems to start understanding, his fingers wrapping gently in yours. You sigh, content and your heartrate decreases on the monitor. “I thought you hated me,” he admits and you shake your head. You decide the best way to convey your feelings right now is to gently pat your chest, fatigue still weighing down your body. He doesn’t seem to get it but he smiles anyway.

“Well, for now, I’ll hang out with you until you’re okay. I wanna help you walk when you get out! I wanna do lots of things with you. If it...makes you happy, right?” You smile around the contraption in your mouth and he accepts it as an answer. His fingers squeeze on yours and you begin to hear him ramble about everything and anything.

His fingers never let go of yours, no matter how sweaty they get. And for you? That’s okay. For you… it’s a miracle as your heart flutters in compassion rather than fear. 

Scott stays by your side of his own volition. He doesn’t mind. He wants to be there for you.

And you feel the same way as he wipes your face and talks to you, waiting for you to heal and hoping to be by your side until you’re healthy. Even if it takes a long time, he doesn’t care. A lifetime is fine.

With you.


	2. Snake Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Self-Harm TW]

Vera. The gorgon with a wallet full of a dead man's funds and a sugar daddy from each country. The woman that lets you do the dirty work and then glares you down when you can't even live up to a slight standard. You want to compliment her, let her know that you really think that she's beautiful and charming when she happens to have a genuine smile that isn't over death and the collapse of a madman's economy.

But she doesn't want you. You know that. You know that and it hurts so much to understand that you're probably worthless in front of the eyes of a woman you've come to love. Truly. It's no crush as you're infatuated with her, even from her maniacal planning.

Vera Oberlin is a cunning woman with her body flaunting how she sees fit. She hates controlling men, slimy women and industries that don't pay fair. She's strong, independent-- You'd drag her down.

You didn't plan on having a breakdown in the bathroom. The filthy bathrooms with stupid text on the walls, engraved in permanent marker, pencils or knives; the bathrooms that are a hangout for the cool kids try to skip class, the young adults that smoke weed and plan ridiculous events with you. And you've fucked up everytime.

Blood is smeared over the stall walls, drying slowly while you rest your head between your knees and sob into the empty bathroom. There's an echo but you don't care about it as you just simply try to prevent from wailing. You're a little dizzy from bloodloss but that's fine. It's not like you'll be going home anytime soon. A part of you doesn't even want to. Maybe you should drop out. Maybe you should find a different school.

Maybe, you think, you're just not worth the time.

You eventually just sit on the toilet and sob, arms outstretched to let the blood flow into a puddle. You stop the hiccups in your chest as the door opens and you pray that it's not Principal Giant Spider. You didn't want to worry the great spider who worried so much for his students.

There's a click of heels on the tiled floor.

Definitely not Principal Giant Spider.

Regardless, you shut up and wait it out, wondering if you should just get up and run, sit there and ~~die~~ fall unconscious. Either way, people usually left you after you did something stupid. They ignored you or pretended to not facilitate with you. This kind of thing wouldn't matter to anyone, surely, if they found you.

You don't even look up as those heels appear just beneath the stall door, the casting shadow making you look up finally.

Vera's heels are there. You can tell as they're extremely pricey with black leather and a gold sole. You remember getting them for her and seeing them there makes you nearly want to sob in delight that she at least still wore something you touched or tried to give to her. Just a little bit went a long way.

She knocked and you spoke up naturally with a tight throat. "Occupied."

There's silence for a moment and then she spoke. "I get that, but it basically looks like you committed a murder. Smells like it, too. And I know well enough that you, committing a murder, is laughable." You flinch and just bury your head back into knees, pushing your kneecaps into your eyes to dry up the tears that you'd been shedding for about an hour, maybe two. You don't know what time it is.

"...There's a lot of blood. That's too much blood for just anyone."

_Stop caring, Vera._

"I'm fine." You want her to go away. You know she's not going to care. Why waste another piece of heartbreak?

"I don't think you are. Open the door." Her voice is a command. It's firm and grips your chest but you refuse to acknowledge the fact she'll want to help. She'll make market off of your act, you feel.

"It's occupied."

She's not going to take that as an answer. You hear her hiss venomously behind the door and you're prepared to feel the onslaught of insults and pointing. There's a ferocious bang on the door and it's great enough to make you flinch upwards.

Vera was trying to kick the door down, you realized. Her expensive, priceless heels were colliding with the door with such power that she was trying to take it off of its hinges. There was a dent starting to come forth and, for a moment, you were terrified. Since when did the gorgon beauty possess such a strength when she was angry?

Your head is back in your knees and you curl away from the door that nearly falls from its squeaking, twisted hinges. _She's going to yell at me._ You can't feel your fingers, even as you try and clench your fists to stop shaking, knuckles now against your scalp. _She's going to yell at me for causing trouble and I'll never see her again. She'll have me kicked out of the school. I should've taken my leave when I had the chance, on the rooftops-_

"Oh god."

You can feel it. The scrutiny, the criticism, the venom that she's going to sling at you. You can feel the tears coming back tenfold and you can't stop them. It rakes over your body and you silently sob directly in front of Vera Oberlin, a woman that could rule the world with an iron fist of femininity.

Silence collapsed over the room. You're not sure how long your face stayed hot with shame and tears as you hid away as best as you could. A minute? Thirty seconds? An hour? Time became nothing but a painful void.

It broke under her voice and the sound of her heels. "I think you need to see a hospital. Right now."

It's those words that cause you to finally look up, face swollen, eyes red and any makeup removed from theatre practice. You're hesitant to at first. Hesitant to see a camera in your face, a disappointed scowl- But you got neither as Vera stepped gracefully over your blood puddle and began to poorly wrap your arms in toilet paper.

You watch her. Her eyes are focused and her frown is full of something that you might think is _worry_ for your well-being. She constantly wraps up your arms, again and again and again until the blood doesn't seep through anymore.

She finishes within a minute or two, kneeling in front of you. The snakes she has climb over you a little, tiny pink tongues flicking out in a questioning fashion that makes your lips pinch and forces you to look away. Vera standing made you look back, her phone coming up into her hand and up to her ear.

She's speed dialing someone, and a familiar voice picks up.

"Yeah? What is it?" It's Damien.

"I need an ambulance, stat."

"W... What? You can't be serious."

"Damien, you're the fastest person who can sling insults that could leave hellfire for _years_ on those at the hospital. I need an ambulance at the school bathrooms _right now._ Spit fire at them or something, I don't care, but get them here faster than I can dial 911."

"Uh shit, sure. Gimme a bit."

"I'm waiting." And she hangs up with a click, turning to you. Her phone goes into her bra and she grabs the front of your shirt, trying to drag you up from the seat of the toilet you had been resting on for an extended period of time. Your arms and legs are numb, you can't stand properly and you stand in the blood puddle Vera has avoided with extreme grace and precision.

"God, how much... how long have you been in here?"

You blubber a bit, trying to stand without her help. She drags you out of the stall by your front still, the smell of iron hitting you as soon as you're past the broken door. "F.. few hours? I'unno. Wha' time is it?"

"It's 10:34 at _night._ School ended six hours ago, at _least!"_

There's a gaunt, pale face in the bathroom mirror, barely held by Vera's arms. There's no color in the mouth nor the cheeks. You look like a corpse from Valerie's shop.

"Hey." Her voice is a tight warning. "Hey, come on, don't pass out on me now, goddamnit." There are sirens in the distance. You can barely hear them. "Don't you _dare_ pass out on me, don't you _dare."_

"I'm sorry... Vera..." You can barely keep your eyes open. "I'll... have to disappoint you again." You pass out in her arms.

* * *

Your eyes are too heavy to move. You can tell you've been crying recently and you don't want to open them yet. You're not ready to face another day of Monster High and disappoint the _clique_ again. You're not ready for it and you're debating on taking a sick day to let it all roll over you. No one would miss you, right? You're just a fuckup and you cry almost every night because of it.

"Look, I get it, Val," Vera sighs from her seat. "I can't miss prom, I get that, but..." Another sigh, but there was more frustration behind it. "I'm just worried, okay? They found a _suicide note_ in their bag. They were really thinking about doing it. And just-" She pauses for a moment. "I think it's because of me. Granted, that's usually something I don't care about, but that's usually slimy motherfuckers. This kid has been trying to hang out with me for a while, okay? And I think they actually care about me."

Wait, what were you doing last??

You finally open your eyes and flinch a little. Though they're dimmed for your sleeping time, the lights of the hospital are still white and _god_ why are they so bright?

You look around, catching sight of Vera with her phone up to her ear and a hand holding up her head at the cheek. She seems to feel your eyes on her and she looks up, eyes of ruby landing on yours with a venom that came from the call, or maybe the stress of the event.

_You did this._

You have to look away, heart hanging heavy in your chest to where you wondered if you could throw up right there. That'd be a sight, right? Right in front of your crush.

"Hey, Val, I gotta go. Text you later."

There's a click and Vera is standing up over you. "What were you thinking?"

The venom disappeared and is replaced with a sense of urgency to get to the bottom of it all. You're not even sure if you can open your mouth when she's asking so much from what you had been hiding from her for what feels like months. Maybe it _was_ months. You're not sure as you contemplate tiredly.

"I've been a problem," you reply slowly, "to you for a long time. To a lot of you for a long time." Against your better judgement, you pull your hands up to your face slowly, feeling the healing scars pull with each movement. You start rubbing your fingers at the corners of your sore eyes. "So I just get really depressed. I didn't... I didn't mean to..."

You feel tears again but you force them to stop this time with an inhale. You're too tired to cry anymore. "I'm sorry. You... I'm sorry."

Vera's chair scoots and you feel cooler fingers on yours. It's a shock and you want to apologize again.

"Look." She hesitates for a moment, biting her lower lip before realizing lipstick tastes like cigarette ashes. "I don't think you're able to keep up with us. You're soft, you're _depressed_ and..." She looks to the side again, really taking her words into consideration and all of the times she had been with you.

"I get it. We weren't _nice_ to you. I get that. That's the point. It let us know you couldn't handle us. And then you kept... coming back and coming back. Scott likes you. Polly likes you. Hell, I know Damien thinks you're... _stupid_ when you get fired up." Was that a blush on her face?

You can feel her nails tapping on your hand as she thinks again, trying hard to relay her words in a pattern that she's comfortable with. Eventually, she seems to give up as she sighs. "Look, if I take you to prom, will that... help?"

You shake your head. "No. I don't want to burden you. I really like you," you admit tiredly, "but if I can't even look you in the eye, then I'm going to just... be a bore."

Her lips purse to one side. "Well, let's try it. I'm not going to prom with anyone. Everyone's disgusting or too stupid." You can't help but raise an eyebrow.

She takes both of your hands, squeezing softly with a blush coming onto her cheekbones more and more prominently. "I'm asking you to prom. Will you accept it or not?" With warmth gripping your heart, you nod.

This might be the very first time you've seen her smile so genuinely, as she pulls out her phone to order you a fit that you'll be wearing by prom night.

Later on, you catch her texting Valerie, _I think I actually picked up a really hot date, Val._


End file.
